As longtime readers of the site know, for most of my life I’ve been a member of that awkward subset of dudes: the male cat owner. Sure, people give you grief if you’re a dude who just has a cat, but my family always had cats when I was growing up so having them is in my comfort zone. Moreover, cats are also super easy pets to care for. Other than feeding them and changing their litter box every other week or so, there’s not a lot of maintenance required. Cats are tremendous lazy people pets.

That said, the desire to own a dog for the first time had been growing on me for a few years. I had been holding off for a while because I thought having to share my apartment with a dog would be unfair to my cat. That thinking held for a while, but as always, my impulses won out. Eventually I decided I didn’t want to have to wait another six years or so for my cat to die before I could get a dog. I WANT IT NOWWWWW! So, a month ago I dropped into the shelter up the street and adopted a five-month old Plott hound/boxer mix that I named Ava.

Right away, I showed all the signs of an idiot first-time dog owner. For example, I kept changing my mind about whether I wanted to crate train her before deciding that I thought crates seemed cruel. “I can’t keep her in a cage! That’s mean!” Besides, I figured, I work from home. I’ll totally be around to take her out. The first day home, she shat on my floor three times. The next day, I bought her a crate. Thank God for crates. My carpet would be a thick stew of doggy shit/piss sludge right now if it weren’t for that crate.

The biggest transition between cat and dog ownership, other than the fact that, unlike the cat, the dog actually wants to be around me more than 10 minutes out of the day is that dogs are fucking gross. Especially puppies. Ava constantly tries to eat other dog’s shit, other dog’s vomit, her own shit, bird shit, the cat’s shit, the cat’s hairballs. If she had her way, Ava’s diet would consist of other creature’s waste and grass clippings.

I overlook it because that’s what you sign on for with a dog, and she’s a sweet girl and she’s learning quick. In fact, the biggest problem I have with Ava is that she hates riding in the car. I’m not sure yet whether it’s motion sickness or just anxiety. She hasn’t thrown up yet in the car but she drools like 20 gallons of saliva if she’s riding for even five minutes. If I take her down the street, my entire back seat and doors are drenched in doggy drool. I tend to think it’s just anxiety because she’ll start drooling even before I start the car.

One time, I was driving with my girlfriend with Ava in the car. My girlfriend suggested that I roll down the windows to give the dog some fresh air. Being a super credulous first-time dog owner, I was immediately sold. AIR! YES, OF COURSE! THAT’S THE TICKET! THAT’LL SOLVE EVERYTHING! So I cracked the windows some. No effect. Just as much drool. Clearly what she needed was more air! AIR AIR AIR! NATURE’S CURE-ALL FOR WHAT AILS YA! So I rolled down the windows the rest of the way.

I’ve kept this practice since and of course it hasn’t changed anything. Ava still drools more than her body weight in saliva. But I have no other answers so I stick with it, because I’m suggestible like that.

This past Sunday, I took Ava to a big fancy dog park that’s much nicer than the one they have at my apartment complex. It has a doggy water fountain and everything. Unfortunately, this requires driving. It’s a hassle and she hates it, but I figure the more I drive with the dog, the more acclimated with the car she’ll get. Perhaps the drooling with phase out with time.

On the way back from the park, I’m driving with the windows all the way down. It’s a nice day and I’m saying reassuring things in a soft tone to the dog while I’m driving because I know she doesn’t like the car. I’m approaching a stop sign on a residential road when I gaze at my rear view just in time to see my dog JUMPING OUT OF THE FUCKING WINDOW. I scream “OH SHIT!” and jam on my brakes. I even heard the thud of her hitting the pavement from inside my car. I instantly think the dog is dead or horribly injured. Within milliseconds, I can envision being branded a negligent dog owner for allowing my puppy to die within a month of adopting her. I imagine friends shunning me and calling me a monster.

But when I get out of the car, she’s laying in the middle of the road, clearly shaken up but somehow otherwise unharmed. Luckily I was only doing 25-30 mph at the time or she definitely would have been hurt seriously. Were there witnesses to this incident? Of course there were. A couple teenager onlookers shout “IS THAT DOG DEAD!?” and “DID HE THROW THAT DOG OUT OF THE CAR?!” I ignore them, race over to the dog, give her a cursory check for broken bones, pick her up, deposit her back in the back seat then peel the fuck out.

Naturally, this is every bit my fault for leaving the window all the way down for a puppy who hates driving in the car. In my defense, I never thought she would jump out of a moving car. So I choose to blame Ava. Because I’m a horrible dog owner. FUCK YOU, PUPPY! THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR TURNING MY BACK ON TEAM CAT!

I bet Jean Grae fucks with Ava when you’re not around with stuff like “That’s why he’s gonna put you in the car and drive around aimlessly then drop you off in the middle of Chinatown.” That clearly explains Ava’s anxiety with riding in your car.

You know what’s real fun, Ape? When you go out drinking, come back after you remember you have a graduate oral exam (not nearly as fun or exciting as it looks) at 9AM, get home at 2:15AM because you’re an idiot, and find the dog has made the cat’s sandbox it’s own poop smorgasbord. I mean, EVERYWHERE. The walls, the carpet in the hallway, ON THE FUCKING BED! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IT ON THE BED YOU FUCKING ASSHAT CANINE?!?! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!?!?!?!

You finally get to sleep at 4:30AM or so, because you just spent all that time cleaning cat turds out of every orifice of the apartment, wash the sheets and comforter, and take a decontamination shower. Oh, you do really horrible at the test later, too. Thanks dog!

Or, um, I mean, I would suggest you train your dog to avoid the cat box.

I always thought cats were okay. Then I saw this special on cats that shows that when a cat shits in a litter box that gets cleaned once a week, the cat steps on its own shit, and then jumps all over furniture, counters (where food is prepared), beds, dressers, bathroom counters, coffee tables, etc. I am sure that it was enhanced on TV, but they showed a map of where the cat had been in the house, and shit was everywhere. Also, the cat owners ingested like 100 times more fecal matter than non-cat owners. Fuck cats and their shit-covered paws.

As a proud member of Team CatDog, I have to speak up here. We have a type of litter box that looks like a plastic tub. It’s got a hole in the top, so they perch over top, and plop their poo inside, like a toilet. It’s so simply ingenious, I hate myself whenever I look at it for not thinking of it myself and making millions of dollars. People love stoopid shit.

I had a roommate who did the “train the cat to shit in the toilet” thing and failed miserably. There was always cat litter and shit all over the toilet. Dogs are filthy, but at least they shit outside eventually.

The critical adjustment is to clean the area where you’re making your food right before you start — but you should probably be doing that anyways. Rest of it isn’t that big of a deal unless you’re seriously immunocompromised in some way.

We had cats growing up. They were outside all the time. The only time they came in was to eat, shit and sleep or if there was too much snow on the ground. Also, one of our cats crawled up inside the engine compartment of my dad’s Ford station wagon. Dad started the car and the cat escaped with only a broken leg thanks to the radiator fan.. Luckiest cat ever.

Bottom line if you get a cat make sure it loves being outside and doesn’t crawl up near your cars engine.

Congratulations. Boxers are the best/smartest/sweetest dogs, and I hear good things about Plotts. Although, Plotts are hounds, which means digging. Have fun!

Now, with a boxer mix, you need to keep a very close eye on skin growths. Those little black wartlike things will turn to cancerous tumors if they start to get a ring around them. You’ll need to have them cut off surgically. Buy the pet insurance now while she’s young, and you’ll get your money’s worth.

For housebreaking: hang a little bell on the doorknob, and when you catch Ava assuming the position, grab her and run her to the door. Ring the bell with her paw and get her outside. After a day or two, she’ll go to the bell when she needs to go out.

And you can get a harness that keeps the dog in the car, or you can just not roll the windows down any further than it takes to get her head out. Geez.

You can also get a collar that grabs with little spines instead of a “choke chain.” It’ll work a lot better and the dog will be easier to walk.

Oh, and boxers drool. They like to take a drink for the road, so don’t even worry about that.

I’ve always had dogs. They are about the dumbest animal you can find. Even the smart ones will still run head first into a door from time to time to remind you they, like cattle, would utterly perish without constant human intervention. Except for those Russian city dogs, who will outlast the fucking cockroaches.

Meanwhile, my friend had three cats, and a couple weeks ago, he swears he saw the one cat push another off the railing of the second floor landing in a deliberate attempt to kill it. He no longer lets them sleep in his room.

My ex had 4 (4!) cats that always woke me up at 6:30 a.m. every time I stayed over. I tell you there is nothing, NOTHING, worse than waking up from a drunken haze only to feel four sandpaper like death tongues gouging out your face. I have nightmares to this day

I hate to bring this subject up, but if you ask any kind of emergency service worker – EMT, cop, firefighter, they’ll tell you something important, and not at all surprising; if you die at home, most dogs will stay loyally by your side, even trying to wake you. They may or may not begin to nibble on your body once the hunger becomes critical. Cats? They’ll start eating your face pretty much right away.

The rational part of me agrees. And I was raised a member of team dogcat, so I appreciate both. But on an emotional level…I dunno. At least the dog seems to give a shit about you. Now I wonder if the cats are just biding their time in the hopes they can feast on our still-warm corpses….

Don’t feel bad, I rolled my dogs head up in the window because I was trying to let her have more room to stick head out and hit the wrong button. Of course, my wife will never let me forget this for the rest of my life.

Also, I have a dog that drooled in the car as a puppy due to anxiety. The dog will probably never come to love riding in the car, but eventually the drooling goes away.

Last dog I had was a gorgeous, playful, and loyal siberain husky–and she got beastly when I/her was threatened by other dogs/persons. She howled, not barked; I loved that bitch to death. When the vet put her down, I was a freshman in college and cried waaaaay more than when my cool as fuck granpa died. Dogs rock, but I just can’t get that attached again.

lol I have owned a Plott/Great Dane for a few months now . he’s about 1 year old. He loves his own poop. I have a cat and my vet has told me that the litter box is a wonderful treasure chest in the eyes of my dog. (nice huh?) so I feel all i do is pick up poop before he does. I think its the Plott part. I have read about them and they love to eat. he has been to the ER, the vet, my bed. just about everywhere for eating something he should not have ate. but the poop thing was really grossing me out. I found some pills at petco.com called Coprophagia. I think they have helped some. I can say they have def helped with his gas issues. (OMG!) he still has no problem picking up his poops and moving them to a dif part of the yard that he feels they might look better in. Now the cat. uggg. not a fan. I love my cat. the dog is not the problem. he is trying to be friends. the cat.. suki.. is just a bitch. the dog… Frito will cry and lay next to her only to be smacked and ran out of the room. so much for why cant we all just get along. Enjoy your plott. mine is very sweet. my cat can walk by him now without spazzing too much and he just cries. oh yeh he weighs about 100 lbs so to see him run out of a room by a 8 lb cat is kind of embarrassing. we’re a family now. I guess you get what you get. and this is what i got. good luck !! team cat/dog or dog/cat. whatever.

We have a Boston Terrier, aka smaller Boxer, and it’s my first dog as well. Everything you described sounds like our experience, except he shakes/shivers instead of drools before and during car trips. He also did the shit/eat/vomit/eat thing, but hang in there. All of a sudden around 18 months old they start behaving better in terms of bathroom habits and then you get to feel unreasonably proud for all the “work” you did and you’ll forget about the time you invited your friends over to meet your new puppy and he looked them all in the eye and took a giant crap on the living room floor.